


Bon appétit, baby

by ThaliaBubble



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attraction, Biting, Blood Drinking, Cannibalism, Desire, Eating, F/F, F/M, Love, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Sugar, but i had to, it sounds extreme but it's more about love than sex, kiss, love supreme, no gendered characters, not-graphic, probably my weirdest fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThaliaBubble/pseuds/ThaliaBubble
Summary: A devouring love takes hold of you, a love so strong, so intense and sublime that it requires the total fusion of beings
Relationships: Reader/Original Character
Kudos: 1





	Bon appétit, baby

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Bon appétit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439201) by [ThaliaBubble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThaliaBubble/pseuds/ThaliaBubble). 



> It may sound very extreme but in fact, it is not described in a gory way. It is more a question of showing the passion and the desire which goes up than a raw scene. No too graphic description, no violence and above all, it is fully agreed.
> 
> Translated with Google trad, sorry ^^   
> Kisses

The heat of summer only heightens the ambient tension as your eyes meet over the table, full of the same desire to take off your clothes to know you in the most intimate way possible. You have been dating for a long time, laughing together, turning around without being able to detach yourself, hypnotized like butterflies in front of a light bulb. Perhaps that is what they are for you, an entity of light with which you would like to warm up entirely knowing that it will make you suffer. "But suffering doesn’t matter when you have pleasure" they keep repeating to you to dispel your doubts and tonight, you feel it, it's time to listen and take the plunge.

In an instant, your hands are on their hips, their touching your face to hold each line, the call of the bodies becomes stronger. Quickly, feel the lukewarmness of their sweaty skin under your fingers, press yourself against it without further apologizing for desiring it as they pull on your t-shirt to prevent you from fleeing, backing away. You would be incapable of it, your body itself is looking for how to get closer and closer, how to be one with the one who is obsessing you. Finally, your mouths are magnetized, throwing one over the other with this awkwardness that causes impatience, your lips joining forcefully. 

Oh my God

This kiss is not chaste or shy, it is not vulgar or violent, it is fire and restraint all at the same time and you feel your mouth squeeze harder to drink all your drunk while a thousand colors that don't yet exist born behind your eyelids. They taste of sin and ripe strawberries, the sugar of the dessert remaining in tiny particles on the flesh of their pink lips as an invitation to taste them. Midnight gluttony, you must savor them for a long time lest they disappear. But now is not the time for tasting, you feel them greedy, teasing, feverish against you, stirring up desire. Their fingers get lost in your hair, you who had spent so much time styling them, their nails sliding on your scalp as they danced their tongue against yours with a playful laugh. What becomes of your limbs, your clothes, the rest of your being, you don't know, only this carnal ballet matters to you, your breaths mingling until suffocation. But what better way to die?

The feverishness of your embrace contrasts with the dryness of ther lips that the little fads of everyday life have cracked. A single touch that is too strong, a teasing bite and a thin ruby pearl thread on the surface, like a drop of wine running down the neck. Your kiss takes a slight taste of salt that you suck on without thinking about it while the possessive hands press your skin, make it blush by imprinting the mark of their fingers on it. Your naked flesh quivers under the bite of their nails, so do they want to butcher you or grab hold so that you never escape? Your limbs are scattered on the carpet, your back catching the artificial light that brings out sensual scratches like the tracks of a feline. They contemplate you, sumptuous tiger, with their pupils dilated like obscure wells, wells of lust where one drowns. Your wet bodies embrace, stick, mix to make only one like two pieces of dough that is kneaded and it is necessary that you have become a malleable, elastic and warm material between their fingers, between their thighs, against their lips.

Their mouth swollen with love can no longer satisfy you, you have exhausted the sugar and salt as you consume a hors d’oeuvre to better appetite. Your senses require more than a tasting, gluttony grazes your being in your most secret corners to call for devouring. The pink ribbon of your tongue goes down to the neck offered, the nectar of their sweat pricking your taste buds like an expensive champagne. The excitement pulsates the fine vessels under the smooth skin and you close your eyes to better feel the rhythm, soak up these pulsations that hammer "I love you" under your lips. They sigh in pleasure as your breath burns their throat, an exquisite creature stretching against you, fusing your envelopes, calling your mouth to more than just a touch. Taste them, tickle them, nibble them until they’re wear out, until the blood is beaded on the surface of their epidermis for better watering.

Again.

Stronger.

More carnal feeling, more of them in you. The ferrous taste like molten metal fills your palate and your mind, you finally discover the true flavor of love, far from sweetness and sweet aromas. Love is powerful, spicy, burning, it is a furnace where you melt to be reborn. Their whispers have become hoarse calls and they vibrate with impatience, again, again, again. Your mouth opens wider, it will never be enough to swallow everything, to soak up completely, perfectly. Your teeth pierce the surface with ease, primal bite of the finally free beast that delights in the piece of flesh, sliding it against your tongue. Chew, revel, start again, listen to the symphony of their exalted sighs as they rock their head back. The carnal wine flows in purple threads on their skin and you lap it in long movements while their thighs close around you, while your bodies are only one ripple. Each wave of pleasure is accompanied by a new bite, on their shoulder, on their chest, on their arms which they offer you the fingers, always this desire, stronger, obsessive, to have their flesh against you, no , in you, to be one. 

You are completely filled with the loved one, never to leave them, losing yourself in them as they melt in you, kiss by kiss until complete dissolution. Is it not the most perfect and sublime form of love?


End file.
